


Recall

by skund



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-03
Updated: 2010-09-03
Packaged: 2017-10-11 10:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/111627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skund/pseuds/skund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For [livejournal.com profile] starsandsea, who asked for the prompt Bruce/Clark. This is Clark's POV of her fic Ghost Echoes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recall

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ghost Echoes](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/1378) by starsandsea. 



He’d come back, and Bruce was gone. He’d almost forgotten (no, _never_, not really) as the weeks and months streamed past on the alien planet on the opposite side of the sun. No, that was the wrong way round. New Krypton was his home and Earth was the alien... No, his heart throbbed, that was wrong too. The sad fact was that Clark wasn’t really sure _where_ home was anymore. When he’d returned to Earth, after that awful, gut-wrenching war, he’d thought it would feel like a homecoming. And it had been, in a way. Ma had smiled at him through her tears, wrapping her frail arms around his neck and it was shocking how much older she looked compared to the short time he’d been away and _oh_ there was nothing in the universe that smelled like his mother’s hugs.

The first few days had been wonderful, but then the little pockets of change started making themselves known. The JLA was completely different, and Clark almost felt like a stranger in those familiar halls. Everyone at work was talking about disasters, events and even TV shows that Clark had no idea about. Dick wasn’t Nightwing. Tim wasn’t Robin. And Bruce was... gone. He’d known that, he’d _known_ that. But living in the strangeness New Krypton had dulled that sense of loss.

His heart had skipped a beat the first time Clark strayed into Gotham and caught sight of a dark cape soaring through the air; but then reality had settled again. Dick looked good in the cowl – not as good as Bruce had – but confident, and powerful. But his smile had shattered the similarity as soon as he’d seen Clark touch down on the rooftop. Dick was a Batman, but not _the_ Batman. The new Robin had looked Clark up and down like he was something the boy had scraped off his boot. Clark regarded him warily. Those blue eyes were entirely too familiar.

Clark had gone home dispirited. His apartment hadn’t changed at all in all the months he’ bee gone. It was still empty, and cold in a way Clark couldn’t put his finger on. Then he heard his fridge door shut and everything went into automatic. Muscles tensed, feet braced and fists were at the ready. The shocked look on the intruder’s face was almost comical as Clark sped into the kitchen. The blond even dropped his ill-gotten ham sandwich.

“You’re... Booster Gold,” Clark said, confused even as he lowered his fists.

“Uh, yeah. Hi.” The man sighed and ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “Look, you might want to sit down for this. I’ve got something you need to hear.”

Half an hour later, Clark felt like his world had been turned upside down. Bruce had told him once that if Booster Gold ever came to him like this, with wild stories of time travel, that Clark should listen and do whatever Booster asked. Clark had no idea _why_ Bruce trusted this guy, and Clark was far from convinced by the near-stranger perched on his kitchen stool, breadcrumbs still on his chin. Clark agreed. Hell, he didn’t have any other plans for the rest of the night. And this was kind of last request, for Bruce.

If any part of his decision to help was influenced by small, quiet hope in his heart, then Clark didn’t acknowledge it.

A day later and Clark was anxiously pacing the time sphere, as Booster called it, with the strange, golden hero, his even odder friend Rip, and Hal Jordan, of all people. The last of the energy was crackling off the sphere and a dusty, red land appeared around them. A motley group of people in the middle distance turned and fled at the sight of the shining sphere. All, except for one. He crouched, low and cautious but also curious, as the team stepped out of the sphere and tasted the ancient air.

Clark knew, right then, even as Booster’s flying computer started chattering off readings, who that solitary figure was. Clark _knew_. He walked towards the watching man, almost fearful that he was part of a waking dream. The man’s hair was way too long, and his skin was covered in fine, red dust instead of a mosaic of scars. But it was him. Clark held out his arm, hand reaching, trying to remain calm. The man looked at it.

“Bruce,” Clark breathed, and for the first time the man truly looked at him. His eyes were exactly the same shade of blue the Clark remembered. But something was missing, absent from that gaze he knew so well.

“Batman.”

Clark saw the moment the spark returned to those startling blue eyes, saw the moment of awakening and the birth of understanding.

Bruce stood up. “Superman.” His voice was rough and dry with disuse, but definitely his. He reached out a hand and took Clark’s outstretched one in welcome. Clark beamed. Time to go home.


End file.
